


Sunrise Secrets

by blue_is_samazing



Series: Sanders Sides College AU Because I Am Not Original [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Anxiety, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Logan has a panic attack, M/M, Trans Morality | Patton Sanders, Transphobia, i'm in highschool so I know nothing about college, its the first Sanders Sides fic I've posted here and its logicality angst, listen, oh yeah actual tags, this is the best thing I have ever written, which is sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 05:41:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17461676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_is_samazing/pseuds/blue_is_samazing
Summary: Sometimes holidays suck. This was almost one of those times, but then it wasn't. I suck at summaries, but trust me, I do Not suck at writing.





	Sunrise Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> Sir, this is my emotional support gay fanfiction.
> 
> Also hello! Guess who is Absolute Logicality Trash? It me! I actually am really proud of this, and I wrote a prequel that I might post as well! 
> 
> I definitely didn't write this in Creative Writing and make my teacher look it over *sweats nervously*
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!

It was the Friday before holiday break, and Logan was, as they say, "freaking out".

He was sitting on his bed, his back against the wall and his knees pulled close to his chest. His glasses sat beside him; he had removed them because he didn't want to fog them up, or break them again. Fear gnawed at his stomach and squeezed his chest, and though he knew he was breathing fine, he couldn't help but feel as though he was drowning. One arm was wrapped around his knees, making him as small as possible, and his free hand held his phone in a shaky, sweaty grip as he typed.

 

**To Patton:**

**Pelase help panic sttack ym room**

 

He cringed at his errors but sent the text, knowing his friend would understand. _Wow,_  supplied the monstrous fear in his head, and Logan flinched. _You can't even text properly. What a miserable failure you are, crying on your bed over something as stupid as-_

 His spiral was, thankfully, cut off by his phone vibrating at his side. _When did I drop it?_ He really was a mess. He squinted at the message.

 

**From Patton:**

**Breathe 4-7-8**

**I'll be there in five minutes**

**Don't hit your head**

 

Logan did the breathing exercise, 4-7-8, something they- Patton, Roman, Virgil, and himself- had come up with for their attacks. Virgil even had the numbers tattooed on his wrist. _In for five, hold for seven, out for eight. Repeat,_ Logan reminded himself _._

 As he breathed, he remembered the first time Patton had found him like this, panicking and alone.

 

 He couldn't remember what he was so panicked about at the time, but he knew it was bad. So bad that, in an effort to stop the thoughts spiralling ever downwards, he began hitting his head against his knees rather forcefully. He had two large, circular bruises on his forehead for a week, and his knees were no better off.

 Patton had walked in just in time to separate Logan's head and knees with his hand (earning himself a large bruise as well, not that he told Logan) and, after a minute of searching, a pillow. Despite Patton's many reassurances, Logan found himself ashamed for such behavior for nearly a month after.

 But that shame was nothing compared to now.

 

 Logan's brain snapped back to the present when he felt warm hand on his shoulder. His eyes, which he hadn't realized were squeezed shut, opened wide to find concerned blue eyes behind large, round glasses. _Patton_.

 Logan couldn't hear what Patton was saying, didn't even see his mouth moving. He just launched himself at the freckled boy, hugging him tightly and burying his face in the crook of Patton's neck. Patton, surprised, hugged back. He noted that Logan wasn't shaking like he normally did during attacks. _He must have gone through the worst of it alone,_  he thought, and he felt a stab of guilt in his heart. _He must have been so scared._

 Patton whispered reassurances in Logan's ear and pretended he didn't notice the moisture on his neck. Logan did his breathing, and tried to believe Patton's words, and pretended his face was dry.

 

Eventually, Logan felt the fear release its grip on his internal organs and slink back to the corner of his mind where it hid, waiting to pounce again. His spiral slowed and his body felt somehow both lighter and more solid. He slowly pulled away from Patton, and felt blood rush to his face. _Oh my god, you hugged him. You idiot, you hugged him, and now his shirt is probably covered in tears and snot, you're disgusting, they were right, you're so disgusting-_

 Hands on his face. Brain went blank. Patton's clear blue eyes, Patton's freckles, _Patton_ made his brain stop and his heart skip a beat.

 "Lo, hey, you're spiralling again. Can you hear me?"

 Logan nodded. Cleared his throat.

 "Your shir-shirt," he stuttered, and cringed. _Annoying_ , commented the fear, picking at its claws.

 Patton just smiled.

 "I can wash it, Lo. What's your level?" Meaning his worry level. Virgil called it anxiety. Logan called it a nuisance. _I can't have anxiety, Virgil,_  he had said once. Virgil had asked why. After a moment, Logan replied, short and cold. _I don't have the time._ That had been the last of that conversation.

 He was getting lost in his head again.

 "Two," he answered, voice scratchy. "It's... fading. I'm fine."

  _I'm fine._

 Patton didn't believe it either. They both pretended to. Patton brushed his thumb along Logan's cheekbone, subtly wiping a tear away.

 "Alrighty, you feeling up for some ice cream? I bought some last night!"

 Logan wanted to ask why Patton bought ice cream on a Thursday night during midterms week. He wanted to ask why Patton was out of the dorm but still in town in the middle of the night on the Friday before holiday break instead of on the way home to his family. He wanted to ask how Patton always knew how to help, how Patton was always the strongest despite being so soft, how Patton had turned him from the robot he was supposed to be into a human being.

 He didn't ask any of it, though. Instead, he managed a small smile of his own, slipped his glasses on, and nodded.

 "That sounds perfect, Patton. Thank you."

 

* * *

 

Two pints of ice cream, two bags of popcorn, and one Disney movie later, Logan was washing dishes while Patton took down the "pillow fort", which was really just a sheet draped over two chairs with some couch cushions and a large blanket underneath. Logan reminded himself to look up some better ways of making pillow forts, because that was downright sad. _Then again, so are you_ , jeered the fear, and Logan shut the water off, leaving the clean dishes in the drying rack. He walked into the living room, and.

  _Oh. My god._

 He smiled fondly at Patton, who was asleep on the couch, blankets and sheets folded neatly beside him and the cushions in their places. Logan stepped closer to remove Patton's glasses, but Patton blinked his eyes open. They stared at each other for a moment, and Logan could read the question in Patton's eyes before he asked it.

 "Are you okay, Logan?"

 And wasn't that the million dollar question? Logan deliberated for a moment, then sat down beside Patton. He pulled at the skin on his palms.

 "I am not certain. Are you?" Because Logan had never seen Patton be Not Okay, and while it made little sense, that worried him to no end. Patton smiled a bit sadly.

 "I'm not sure either. Wanna talk about it?"

 Logan debated in his head. _This is the perfect opportunity to get Patton to be fully honest and allow his negative emotions to show_ , said the only helpful part of his brain.

  _But_ , protested the fear, twitching its tail and grinning. Logan realized that his fear was much like the Cheshire cat in his head, except larger. And darker. And more dangerous. A Cheshire tiger with his blood on its chin. _But, you will then be obligated to share_ your _reasons for being Not Okay. And nobody wants to hear that, especially not Patton_.

 Logan decided to ignore the fear. Patton was more important. He nodded.

 "I would love to."

 

* * *

 

They found themselves on the roof of the dormitory building. Logan often went up there to stargaze and get away from deadlines and tests and people. Patton liked to dangle his legs off the edge and strum his ukulele and sing.

They both sat with their legs hanging off, watching the sun rise. Neither wanted to speak first. Logan decided he may as well go for it, as Roman had been telling him for weeks now (though in slightly different context). Unfortunately, it seemed Patton made the same decision, because they both spoke at the same time.

 "I have been-"

 "My family-"

 The two boys cut off, and Patton laughed while Logan watched, the fond smile from before making its reprise. _He always snorts when he laughs for real,_ supplied what he named his Good Brain. _It's adorable!_

 Logan could not agree more.

 "You go first," he implored as Patton's bright laughter faded. They were the only two staying on campus in this building, so neither worried about waking anyone.

 The usual glow in Patton's eyes dimmed a bit, but his face was still a gentle sort of happy.

 "Alright, well... my family... my family have decided that I'm not invited to their Christmas celebration."

 Logan, despite himself, spoke without thinking.

 "But you were on the phone with your mother yesterday, making plans, were you not?"

 And Logan pieced it together, and he realized how stupid he was when Patton spoke with a tremor in his voice.

 "Penelope is invited. Patton... Patton isn't." And with that, Patton broke. Logan took the sobbing boy in his arms and pushed them both away from the edge of the roof.

 He let Patton cry into the fabric of his shirt, let Patton's tears soak through to his skin, let Patton spill everything out. Logan let Patton overflow.

 "Th-they want their daugh-daughter, not m-m-me! They ha-hate me, and they pret-tend I'm her, but I'm not, not anymore! I mean- I've been so pa-atient, I've given them t-t-time, I've l-let them t-tell me when to- wh-when to "d-drop it", but my gra- my grandmother e-mailed me, and sh-she said that if I wanted to go, I need to b-be the y-young woman she knows I am, not some f-freakish _abomination_!"

 Logan decided he would have to get that woman's e-mail address. He had some words for her. He cradled Patton closer to his chest, letting the shorter boy sit in his lap, wrapped around Logan's torso like a sad koala.

 "I- I don't know what I'm d-doing wrong! I- I don't know why I can't- why I couldn't just be their little girl like they want, instead of some- some _freak!_ " Patton practically screamed the last word, and Logan knew that his throat probably felt like rocks, and his mouth probably tasted like poison. Logan, as Virgil would have said, "knew the feel".

 He took a moment to formulate a response that wasn't just screaming and cursing about how wrong Patton's so-called "family" was while Patton caught his breath.

 "You... your family is wrong."

 Patton chuckled wetly, and Logan had to resist the urge to facepalm. _Stupid._  Patton's voice was rough and shaky.

 "I know, Lo. Still hurts, though. What about you? What's your sunrise secret?"

  _Sunrise secret_ , Logan mused. _I like that._ He rested his chin on Patton's head, somehow knowing Patton wouldn't mind.

 "I ate all the Crofters," he said, teasing. Patton _thwacked_ his back, giggling, and Logan let out a small laugh.

 "I spill my heart out and you tell me you finished the jelly? C'mon, Lo, gimme something a little more substantial!"

 Logan took a deep breath.

 "My family disowned me."

 And it felt like such an enormous weight off his shoulders, but then he felt Patton tense up, and he feels fear squeeze his heart. _He hates you now. He thinks you're disgusting. He-_

  _No,_ Logan thinks back with malice. _He understands. Go back to your cave._

 A few breaths, 5-7-8, and his heart eases. So does Patton.

 "My mother messaged me. She informed me that, upon consulting preachers and considering and praying for years, she and my father and the rest of the family decided they did not want to be dragged to hell with me. She said they do not condone my disgusting, unnatural, and sinful lifestyle."

 His voice is surprisingly even, like discussing the weather instead of something that had his fear digging its claws into him and filling his veins with poison that _burned._

 He hid his face in the poofy softness of Patton's blond hair, dyed light blue at the tip of each curl. He smelled like vanilla and coconut.

 "Well, your family is wrong too. Both our families are wrong. But you know what?" Patton pushed away from Logan just enough to look him in the eyes. Their glasses were almost touching.

 "What?" He asked, because he couldn't say _The water in your eyelashes makes your eyes shine more than usual_ or _You're beautiful even when you cry and it isn't fair_ or _I love you and it scares me to death but I hope to any deity out there that you'll love me back._

 Patton smiles up at him, and behind him the sun is rising, and it looks like the reds and pinks and oranges are coming from Patton himself, and Logan feels his heart stop and sputter.

 "We don't need them! We've got our own family here, with Ro and Virge and Dee and Emile and Remy and Toby!" Patton sounds so happy, so hopeful, like a child at Disney, not an adult on a roof. "And yeah, maybe they're not here right now, but we are!"

 And then Patton was standing up, and he took Logan's hands and lifted him up too, and they stood together in the cold, in the colors of the sunset, and Logan loved him, and he thought maybe Patton loved him back, because he looked up at him with Those Eyes and That Smile and he was breathtaking.

 "So, Logan, I think we should be our own family! Who cares what anyone says or thinks, who cares what they believe?" He turned to face the sun, arms spread wide like he was hugging the sky. Logan couldn't breathe, but it was a good sort of breathlessness.

 "The world is ours! We can be who we are, and now, we don't have to worry about other people judging us!"

 And then, Patton was yelling.

 "I AM PATTON SANDERS AND I'M TRANS!"

 He turned back to Logan, his cheeks and nose red from the cold, his eyes red from the tears, his hair a mess, but somehow, he was brighter than ever before.

 "Your turn! Tell the world who you are! Nobody can stop you!" His voice was light and airy. Logan breathed in, turned to the sun, and screamed so loud his throat ached.

 "I AM LOGAN HART AND I AM GAY AND IN LOVE WITH PATTON SANDERS!"

 And he felt amazing and terrified at the same time.

 He turned around again, but kept his eyes shut. He was scared to see Patton's face. His throat hurt, and his eyes burned, and he was so, so scared. The fear was behind him, he could feel it's hot breath on the back of his neck, and it smelled like copper.

 There was a hand on his face, and another hand holding his, and warm air tickled his lips.

 "Logan? Lo, can you please open your eyes?" Patton's voice was gentle, like a breeze. A stark comparison to his previous yelling.

 Logan opened his eyes.

 Patton's entire face was red, his beautiful blue eyes searching, his lips upturned. He was so... Patton.

  _I am in love with Patton Sanders._

 "Logan," Patton began, slow and hesitant. Logan felt his stomach drop off the roof, and he squeezed his eyes shut again and wondered why he thought Patton would feel the same, because _Of course he doesn't, idiot! You're still a freak! He hates you. He hates you hates you hates you-_

 "Logan, you need to breathe, okay?" And Logan did, 4-7-8, because even if Patton hated him, he couldn't let him down more. An apology burned at his tongue, but if he let it escape then he was _Asking For Pity, Hart Men Don't Apologize, Logan._ A "sorry" would have put Patton in a position where he felt that he _had_ to forgive Logan, which was far from fair.

 So Logan breathed, and his tongue burned, and he berated himself while Patton stroked his cheek and squeezed his hand. And he calmed down.

 "Logan, please look at me? Please?"

 It took a moment, but he did. Patton was smiling sadly, still blushing, still searching. Still Patton.

 "Lo, did you mean it?" Patton asked so softly, and it killed Logan, because he was going to miss that voice when Patton made him leave. He nodded.

 "Say it again, please?" And god, he would miss Those Eyes, bluer than a chlorine pool, deeper than any ocean, with so many secrets he wanted to learn. _Now you never will_ , the fear informed him, circling him, occasionally swinging at him with its claws.

 And it hurt. It hurt so much, but Logan obliged.

 "I am in love with you, Patton Sanders."

 Logan didn't know what it meant, the squeak that escaped Patton. He may not have been the best at social cues, but he was fairly certain people didn't squeak when they were angry.

 Patton's face moved closer to his, and Logan could count those freckles, spread along Patton's nose and cheeks, accented perfectly with the red under his skin. From cold, or from blushing, or from both. Logan didn't think he was angry.

 "Logan..."

 He was closer, their noses touched. Logan could have counted his eyelashes, but he was drowning in his eyes. Drowning felt so much like flying.

 "Can I kiss you?"

 Words Logan never thought he would hear, never from Patton, never to himself.

 "Please," he breathed, and then.

 And then.

 Patton's lips were soft, and warm despite the cold air around them his hair was soft as Logan ran a hand through it, and when he rested his hand on Patton's waist, it was soft with the fat Patton hated. _Too feminine,_ he had called it once, when his dysphoria left him hiding in his room all day.

 Patton squeaked again when Logan's tongue brushed his bottom lip, but he opened his mouth, and Logan thought lightning must have struck him, because Patton was kissing him, and he tasted like cookies and cream and popcorn, and he smelled like vanilla and coconut, and one of Patton's hands was in his hair, the other on his face, a thumb brushing his cheekbone. Patton was with him on the roof in the light of the sunrise kissing him.

 Patton pulled back a bit, and their lips were connected by a small string of saliva, which broke when they both gave soft, breathless laughs. The sun was up, and the sky was blue, and Logan and Patton were so warm and so cold. So grounded, but flying high above the earth. They were one big, beautiful contradiction. For a few minutes, they just looked at each other, their eyes and hearts and souls full of something beyond words. Patton, however, broke the silence with words that came close.

 “I love you, Logan Hart,” he whispered, and Logan kissed his forehead.

 ”I love you too, Patton Sanders.”

  _And nobody can stop me._

 

* * *

 

 

They stayed on that roof for another fifteen minutes before Patton sneezed, prompting Logan to get them back through the window to his room. Logan didn’t even let Patton go back to his own room, instead setting up a blanket pile where he had previously been panicking. The fear slunk around in the back of his mind as he prepared tea and chicken noodle soup, whispering about the percentage of people that died from colds and flus, but Logan ignored it.

 He would not let that happen.

 In two weeks, their friends would walk into the living room to find Patton curled up in Logan’s arms under the biggest blanket fort they had ever seen set up in the living room, both boys fast asleep while the credits for some Disney movie scrolled up the screen of the television. Roman would begrudgingly pass Virgil a twenty and earn a kiss on the cheek as thanks.

 There would be more nights where Logan and Patton sat on the roof and talked, or cried, or held each other. Usually all three. There would be many more sunrise secrets, secrets about Cheshire tigers and deadnames and Bad Thoughts and sometimes, they would find themselves a little too close to the edge, a little too close to falling off.

 They always kept each other from falling off the edge.

**Author's Note:**

> Heya! If you liked this, please leave kudos, and if you have time, a comment! I live off of the validation.


End file.
